I Know I Can Count on You
by hopelessromantic0707
Summary: This is what partners do. / Series of drabbles and one-shots at various stages in their partnership. The whole collection will be rated T, but ratings will vary for each piece. Enjoy!
1. you might be a bit confused

title: you might be a bit confused (and you might be a little bit bruised)

Rating: G

Disclaimer: _NCIS: LA _does not belong to me.

Spoilers: none.

Summary: "Easy, tiger. You'll like this. Trust me."

Author's Note: Post-ep for _The Job_.

* * *

><p>Kensi jolts upright, all messy hair, bleary eyes and long limbs, reaching unconsciously for a gun that isn't there.<p>

"You ok over there?" There's a laugh in his voice as he asks, because he's never seen her when she's not perfectly put-together. There have been plenty of times when she's been _this close _to falling apart at the seams (the whole _Entrapment _re-enactment, for one), but her guard and appearance never falters; she never lets it. So the Kensi before him now is new.

She nods, runs her hands through her hair, blinks herself awake.

"You're still here?" Her voice is still thick with sleep and he swallows, looks over her head at the wall, tries not to think about the fact that this is how she sounds every morning; Tofu Scrambler Guy probably heard that voice all the time and if...

"Deeks?"

"Yep!" The way she looks at him sometimes, he swears she's reading his mind. It's like that one episode of _Buffy _with the telepathic demons and he's Xander, the open book. He clears his throat, tries to relax. "What am I still doing here?"

She rolls her eyes, shoots him a _this had better be good_ glare.

"I wanted to make sure you didn't have a concussion and then...I sort of started going through your DVR." He cringes; he really needs to act like more of a guy in front of her. "Um. Yeah."

"Dude. I got punched in the jaw. No way that gives anyone a concussion. And I don't need you to take care of me. Got it?"

"Everyone needs that sometimes, Kens," he says quietly. "I'm your partner; it's the least I can do."

A smile flits across her lips before she can stop it. "You watch _Love & Other Drugs_, Deeks?"

"Last week. It's cute." He realizes those words actually left his mouth a second later, rushes to add, "Anne Hathaway's smokin', so, you know, there's that too."

"Quit while you're ahead, ok?" she says, grabbing the remote from his lap.

Two minutes of channel-surfing later, something catches his eye. He reaches over her, clicks the 'Select' button and slides to the other end of the couch so her punch is met with empty air instead of his arm.

"Easy, tiger. You'll like this. Trust me."

He watches her eyes turn toward the screen, take in Cary Grant and Grace Kelly slow-dancing in a hotel room.

"_To Catch a Thief_. Only you, Deeks. Only you."

He just smiles.


	2. so what? so i've got a smile on

Title: so what? so i've got a smile on

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: _NCIS: LA _does not belong to me.

Spoilers: None

Summary: The first time Deeks kisses her...

Author's Note: becca_racdgg and I have a lovely little _NCIS: LA _Deeks + Kensi Ficathon going. This is ridiculously cliche (my apologies)...but I still love it? And at least I can recognize that it's cliche hehe. :D Set in the indeterminate future. Title from John Mayer's 'Why Georgia'.

* * *

><p>The first time Deeks kisses her is nothing like she thought it would be.<p>

She's never been an overly-romantic person, prefers instead to keep her guard up. But this? She can't help but think 'All I Ask of You' should be playing in the background or something because this is the closest she's going to come to a movie moment.

When he realizes she's conscious, breathing on her own again, he pulls away, helps her sit up. "You really should stay away from water, you know that? You don't have the best track record with it." He's trying to be nonchalant, but she can see the concern in his eyes.

"I'm fi..." she tries, but ends up choking up massive amounts of liquid in lieu of the rest of her sentence. He runs his hands through her hair, over her back, down her arms until she's done.

"Would you quit saying your fine? Please? You pretty much died five seconds ago. Can't get much further from fine than that, Kens."

"You kissed me," she blurts out, because it's the first thing that comes to mind and it's guaranteed to make him uncomfortable; she really needs something else to concentrate on besides the fact that she used yet another of her nine lives today.

"Ok. CPR does involve kissing, in the strictest sense, but I was saving your life so I think I should be allowed to keep all my body parts. Fair deal, right?"

She nods, keeping her laughter bottled up, because he's completely serious so she should be too.

He radios in their status, says they need an ambulance, waves her off as she protests.

* * *

><p>The second time he kisses her, she's groggy and disoriented from sleep; for a minute, she wonders if she's drowning again.<p>

She raises her eyebrows at him, a silent question.

There's a shrug, a slight lift of his lips, like he finds her current expression amusing, adorable, who knows what.

"You almost died today. Figured I should get my ass in gear."


	3. all my future somethings

Title: every day i fight for all my future somethings

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: _NCIS: LA _does not belong to me.

Spoilers: _Fame _(1x20)

Summary: When she brings him coffee he knows he's in.

Author's Note: And the _NCIS: LA_ Ficathon continues. This takes place during _Fame_. Title taken from Natasha Bedingfield's 'Strip Me'. (Don't get too used to this 'updating every day' thing; it's most definitely not the norm.)

* * *

><p>"...maybe Kensi gets in 'cause she's hot. I'm just sayin'. Don't make it weird."<p>

The words rush together so fast, _he _can barely understand what he's saying. He knows, despite his fervent prayers that the comment went over her head, that Kensi heard him loud and clear. She's Kensi, he wouldn't expect any less. (He's only known her a week, but, in that short amount of time, he's learned messing with her is like playing with fire- go too far and you get burned. Or, in his case, lose a limb.)

So he's careful to keep his full attention on Callen as he runs through the rest of his plan. If the way she's breathing is any indication, one wrong look and, at the very least, he's sure to be walking funny for a week.

* * *

><p>He takes his life into his hands again when he uses Fern as her alias.<p>

In his defense it's kind of born out of necessity. That skimpy black dress that's barely a dress, the vanilla and cinnamon that's either her shampoo or perfume, the dusting of glitter on her cheeks...all of those things are making it almost impossible for him to concentrate on the task at hand.

Fern is his antidote. Just saying the name conjures images of 60 year old librarians with bifocals, horrible perms and lipstick smeared on their teeth. Five seconds of that and he's back to investigating their drug-addicted Paris Hilton wannabe.

"Don't you dare call me Fern," she tells him, not bothering to look up from her cell. The tone of her voice is warning enough, but he chooses to ignore it.

Really, he's helping her out. Not a single patron within earshot of their ensuing argument would ever guess it's a fantasy. Her annoyance with him in that moment is 100% genuine.

He can thank Fern for that.

* * *

><p>When she brings him coffee he knows he's in.<p>

Not just with NCIS. With her. After almost a week and a half, the Deeks charm has finally gotten under her skin.

They talk about surfing and waves and his _liasing_ abilities (god, he's never going to live that one down) before he finally gets out what he came to tell her.

There's this weird tension between them, after, neither one knowing how to part ways.

It feels too early in their _whatever _for any of the standards (_don't die, take care of yourself, promise me you'll be here when I get back_), so he reverts to his fallback setting, glib and sarcastic.

"Don't worry, Fern. I'll be back."

She tries to hide her smile as she walks down the street, but her turn isn't quick enough and he catches it.

He can't help but hope it's only the first of many.


	4. we'll meet beyond the shore

Title: we'll meet beyond the shore

Rating: G

Disclaimer: _NCIS: LA _does not belong to me.

Spoilers: None

Summary: She shouldn't have let him talk her into this, that's all there is to it.

Author's Note: Ficathon...blah, blah, blah. If you guys have been reading these, you know the deal. My muse is all about the fluff with these two. Maybe one day I'll start writing angst and actually succeed. That day is not today. Thank you to all my lovely readers (hugs to the ones that review)! Title credit to 'Beyond the Sea'. Oh, this is obviously set in the future. Can be interpreted as friendship, the beginning of something more, whatever you wish.

* * *

><p>She shouldn't have let him talk her into this, that's all there is to it.<p>

But he's Deeks and, contrary to what Sam and Callen may believe, he usually ends up getting what he wants from her with very little effort. (She plays that tidbit close to the vest, always puts on a show of making him work for things; she has a reputation, after all.)

"Yo, Blye!" She pushes herself away from the pier at the sound of her name, spins to face him with a tired smile. "You ready for this?"

She nods, 'as ready as I'll ever be' mixing with a yawn.

"Late night, Princess?" he asks, throwing an arm around her shoulder as they walk toward the beach. If the nickname is an attempt to break through her fog, it works. Somwhat.

"I told you never...is that for me?" Her eyes light on the Starbucks cup in his hand and she can barely restrain her glee; all thoughts of giving him hell are abandoned with the promise of caffeine.

"Venti chai, extra whip." He passes the drink to her with a laugh. "Can't have you falling asleep on your board, makes things difficult."

* * *

><p>After a particularly uncoordinated tumble into the surf, she gets stuck under her board and Deeks has to haul her to the surface.<p>

"Maybe we should call it a day," he says when she stops gasping for air and (she assumes) her face has returned to its normal color. "Hetty will have me shot if I let you seriously injure yourself on a day off."

"Oh no. I'm going to stay upright on this damn thing for more than a second, even if it kills me." A quick glance at him, at the way his mouth is rapidly opening and closing like a dying goldfish, tells her he's weighing the pros and cons of Hetty's anger versus hers.

"I can withold things that Hetty can't. Keep that in mind."

"Oh. Playin' dirty now, are we?" He smirks, flicking water in her face.

Her shoulders lift in a half-shrug, an innocent smile playing at her lips. "Would I do that?"

* * *

><p>She's pulling her bag over her head and sliding her sunglasses into place when she feels something soft hit her back. She turns, looks down to find his sweatshirt at her feet. Normally, she'd be affronted, say she doesn't need his clothes, has her own. But she stupidly forgot to grab a sweatshirt as she rushed out of her apartment this morning and it's cold. He shoots her a thumbs up, shoves a Nutty Bar in his mouth.<p>

"You did good today, Gidget," he says after he swallows.

"Yeah, sure. Me and my one successful ride were awesome."

"Hey, at least I didn't have to rush you to the ER. That's something."

She shakes her head, gathers her hair into a messy bun, pulls the hood of the sweatshirt up. "Whatever you say."

* * *

><p>As soon as their feet hit the gravel of the parking lot, she tells him she's starving.<p>

It's not a lie, not at all. She _is _hungry. The fact that she'll get to spend a few more hours with Deeks doesn't factor into the equation at all.

(That is a lie.)


End file.
